Thanksgiving, after all, is a word of action
by SageK
Summary: Body of Proof fic.  Friends don't let friends have Thanksgiving alone


It all began rather simply, another day, another case.

Megan and Peter exited their car, seeing Bud and Sam doing the same farther down the street. The address they were looking for, the home of a friend of Jessie Turner, their latest victim. Both duos began walking towards the house, which was almost dead center between where they parked their cars.

Before either party had gotten very far, a young man came out of the house and rushed downstairs, turning towards the detectives, then freezing.

He turned on his heel and sprinted at Megan and Peter. Clearly, the other two had more of that cop aura and having them shout "Stop! Police!" only made the suspect flee faster.

Megan was startled when Peter gave her a shove into the relative safety between two parked cars before launching himself at the man. He lowered his shoulder and hit him in the midsection, taking the suspect down hard. Briefly, Megan was reminded of the occasional glimpse she had of the football games Todd loved.

On the ground, Peter had the man, Steve Anders, pinned facedown by the time Bud and Sam arrived to cuff him. After that, the case had been closed rather quickly, as Anders broke down and confessed to killing Jessie and even told Bud where he'd hidden murder weapon.

Case closed.

At the end of the day, Megan stuck her head into Peter's office, wanting to inquire about drinks. It was the day before Thanksgiving and, since Todd had taken Lacey to see his family in in Connecticut and mother was visiting friends in the Hampton's, she was planning to spend the day doing paperwork even though she wasn't on call. Peter too had the day off, but she thought that they could have a pre-holiday drink, maybe dinner.

That's what friends did.

She paused in the door of his office, surprised by what she saw.

Peter was sitting on his small couch, shirt off as he tried to treat several nasty scrapes on his elbows. His turn shared was tossed on the small table before him and replacement rested beside him as he struggled to clean the wounds.

"Want a hand with that?" she asked, stepping into the room and moving to take a seat on the coffee table.

He seemed surprised and grateful for her presence. "Thanks," he replied, handing over the antibiotic swab. "My shoulder's acting up on me."

Unconsciously, Megan's eyes ticked to the side, noting the heavy scarring on his shoulder. The long cuts were clearly from attempts to repair the damage done by a bullet, as the entry wound itself haven't left much damage. Internally was another story altogether and she wondered what the exit looked like, but pushed that thought aside to concentrate on the task at hand.

Dabbing swabbed the worst scrapes, she shook her head. "You should have said something earlier," she told him, then quirked a smile. "There are plenty of doctors around here."

He chuckled and gave her a little grin. "Most people around here aren't used to their patients having a pulse."

As she attached a gauze pad to his skin with surgical tape, she laughed. "True enough, but next time come to me."

She emphasized her point with a poke to his chest, right in the center of the blonde hair that dusted across his pectorals. The doctor in her brain assessed his physique, firm and healthy without being overly cut, broad and sturdy instead of lean and wiry.

Strictly feminine part of her brain piped up to add it's own opinion that Peter was just plain hot, though she already knew that. The man wore his clothes well.

Now she just had a better idea of what he looked like half out of said clothes.

Trying to act like she was not having such thoughts, Megan moved to tend his bad arm, slipping her hand under his bicep to support him as she cleaned the elbow. He bit back a grunt discomfort and she finished up as quickly as she could.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to grab a pre-Thanksgiving drink, but I think you should go home and ice that shoulder," she said, watching as he raised a hand to the offending joint and rubbed it in an annoyed manner.

In a very real way Peter's injured shoulder mirrored her paresthesia. The randomly occurring paralysis in her hands had ended her career as a surgeon and his limited range of motion made continuing his career as a detective impossible. People from themselves working in the medical examiners office, a place where they could continue to use their skills, just in a different way.

They made a very good team.

"I wouldn't mind drinks," Peter said, reaching for the small first aid kit beside her and pulling out a tube. Flipping open the cap, he squeezed some of the cream onto his bad shoulder and, with the ease of much practice, closed the tube one-handed before beginning to massage the cream in. "I'll ice it later…then break out my old friend, Mr. Heating Pad."

Megan glanced at the tube, surprised to see Arnica instead of the usual Ben-Gay. Perhaps Peter didn't like the smell. "I'd feel better if you saw to this," she insisted, waving a hand to indicate shoulder. "Wouldn't want you to be all achy over the holiday."

He sighed, then his blue eyes locked on her. "What're you doing tomorrow?" he asked, finishing applying the gel and grabbing his spare shirt, a long sleeved Henley instead of the usual button-down.

Not wanting to make a fuss, Megan replied, "Nothing special."

Peter got his bad arm into the proper sleeve before shrugging the garment over his head. "You're not on call," he said, observant gaze still on her. "Dinner with… anyone?"

"Family's out of town," she replied with a shrug. "But it's not like that's uncommon."

Blinking, he said, "Okay, so have dinner with me. Mom makes enough food to feed an army. Plus, if I bring a friend maybe they'll be polite and not moan that I have been married yet."

Oh, he was good. Making it sound like she'd be doing him a favor by going to dinner with him. Tricky, tricky man.

And, to be honest, she hadn't been looking forward to yet another holiday alone. "Are you sure it wouldn't be an imposition?" she asked and he replied with a bright grin.

"Not at all. Can you be ready by 10:30 AM? I could pick you up."

"Of course," Megan replied, a warm feeling in her chest at the thought of spending the holiday with someone she liked, who actually liked her. Mother was… mother and Lacey was still becoming accustomed to spending time with her, so it would be nice.

Plus, she'd get to meet the people who shaped Peter into the fine man he was today.

TBC...

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><p>Comments, pretty please?<p> 


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